


Stranger Things: The Disappearance of Lucien Bloodmarch

by TevinterJunkie



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: AU, Anyways!!, Crossover, Fanasty, Horror, I love writing this but it's so hard!!, Idk what else to tag it ghhhhh, M/M, STAU, abuse tw, netflix, stranger things, transphobia TW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-27 07:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12076785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TevinterJunkie/pseuds/TevinterJunkie
Summary: It's the little town of Maple Bay, where everything is advertised to go right, and doesn't hold up to it's tall tales.





	Stranger Things: The Disappearance of Lucien Bloodmarch

It was three a.m. and he had finally finished checking the salinity. With everything going wrong in the laboratory, at least the readings with one of their most important equipments had went alright. That said, it usually did, so it wasn't too much of a surprise, but a hell of a relief. If there was another disruption halting possible progress, he was sure he would lose his job, and maybe more, no matter his importance in taking maintenance of the tank and other parts of the facility. No matter how good he was at his job, there were many just as good workers to replace him with. It felt as if it were only a matter of time, anyways. After recording the appropriate psu results onto his chart, he stepped away from the tank and back over to the metal rolling tray beside him, sitting down his clipboard and pen before beginning to remove his gloves and safety goggles from the long day of work. 

Just as he slipped off his thick latex gloves, he heard a creaking noise.It was extremely faint, but somehow he heard it, from the direction to his left. His eyes trailed over down the ways corridor, but he didn't see anything just yet. However, he knew where those doors led. 

Keeping as quiet as he could, to be able to hear any more noises if they were to happen, he began to ease down the metal stairs from the platform the tank was placed upon on, his shoes making only soft tappings as he reached the lower linoleum. 

Once he was down, he made his way swiftly over to the doors, the smell of cleansing alcohol becoming more and more prevalent. He was used to it by now. He almost welcomed it, if it weren't for the strange noises, since for as much as he knew, he was the only one in the laboratory for the night other than the security upstairs, he wouldn't be able to hear any of the occurrences. 

He opened the doors to the corridor. It was bright and shining white as usual. Somehow, though, it felt a little dim, as if the energy level was low causing the air to be miraculously a new type of freezing. The scientist paid it no mind, taking a deep breath before heading down it. As he walked, he continued to listen. It was still and completely silent, almost painful to listen to. He knew he wouldn't be able to go all the way down the hall; if he heard any noises coming from down there, he would have to go and get security and backup, for he wouldn't dare go down near that...thing. Alone would be another situation entirely. 

The noises didn't seem to come from down there, though, as he quickly was alerted to what appeared to have been his source. This made him question if it was just as much the state of emergency as the wing branched from the end of the hall...maybe even worse. 

He was definitely fired.

The door to the room was open. To Her room, without Her being in it. There was no absolute way that the door could be opened, especially by Her. Only the doctor could enter Her room, and he was sure that he hadn't come by at any time that day to retrieve Her. She didn't go upstairs unless on choice days when visitor hour had been long since closed and the public completely shut out, and She wasn't allowed to free roam at all, and was never allowed to be alone. 

His eyes flickered over the scene. It was spotless. Her bed was made, Her drawings were on the walls and on the desk across the room. Her stuffed animal, a pony, was beside her pillow. There seemed nothing amiss, only Her not being there. 

Taking a step inside, his hand shaky as he unhooked his comm from his belt and pulled it up to his lips.

That's when the door slammed behind himself, and the comm lost reception. 

———

“You should've seen the look on the clerk's face!” Ernest howled, bags rustling from their hook between his lifted elbows. “He didn't even want to tell us to get out, he wasn't sure if I was serious or not!”

“Thank you for not being serious,” Briar began.

Hazel finished, “Green is not your colour.”

Ernest rolled his eyes and Lucien snorted, a bony hand placing itself on his short boyfriend’s shoulder. “What? Yeah, the dress was rather skimpy, but I thought he looked pretty...alright in it.” He accented this statement with a wink. Both of the twins groaned, and Amanda shook her head at all of them. 

She lead the pack down the sidewalk, taking the lead beside Daisy and Carmensita, followed by Lucien and Ernest, then finally the twins. They had just finished going shopping at the boardwalk instead of their usual mall run after, unsurprisingly, Ernest had gotten banned at one of their favorite shops after... unexplained and unexplainable circumstances. 

“So look,” Carmensita began, drawing the group closer because of her quiet voice. “My dad’s birthday is coming up soon. One of you needs to go shopping with me again to help me find something for him. First step is going through his entire shelves of discography to figure out what he doesn't have and also to evaluate what he likes...though in my thirteen years of living with him...I'm pretty sure I know by now.”

Amanda smirked and shrugged. “Dunno. I might be able to. We could try next week.”

“That would be good.” The other girl nodded back to her. “Because as of this week, I'm completely broke. The thrift ran me dry.” She enunciated by shifting around her bags, full of assorted clothing and books. 

“So you've got to wait until more allowance so you can buy your father’s present with his own money.” Ernest chuckled. 

“Yeah, I've always thought about that.” Daisy chimed in, smiling down to Carmensita, her green eyes twinkling in the hot sun. “Funny how that works… that said, I definitely know the feel.”

Lucien sighed. “Me too.”

Amanda glanced back at him, looking up at the younger boy who walked behind her. “Why don't you get a job?”

“Why don't you?” The goth retorted. Amanda went quiet. “It's...not that easy.”

“My dad is hiring at The Coffee Spoon.” The little girl suggested, but Lucien shook his head to her. She smirked, “What? Too hipster for you?”

“Pablo has that job. Maybe not yet, but your father and him are buddies.” Ernest cut in, saying what he had to so Lucien wouldn't have to bother. “You know how I feel about Pablo, Carmen.”

The girl shrugged. “Yeah. I guess you're right.” 

Lucien, thankful for the add-on, slipped back into silence. He wasn't quite sure why, but the air around them felt stiff. Maybe that was wrong for Ernest to say? Well, Ernest talked. He always said what had to be said, whether or not it was completely justified. Lucien usually supported him on it, and this time was one of those times. 

The sun was setting out over the bay, the water glistening a soft orange-tinted silver. It made him feel warm even though it was chilly. He figured when he got home he'd maybe skip out on dinner and take a bath instead. They'd done a ton of running around today, and Amanda had dragged them to a fast food joint that had made his stomach a bit uneasy: their salads were just stale lettuce and too much tomato, and from what he saw, whatever atrocity the others were eating was radiating grease. 

Eventually, they ran out of sidewalk North of the bay. The had to traverse a road for a bit until they reached another that, after a couple blocks, would lead them to the gate of their shared neighbourhood. Lucien had always liked having his friends so near, especially Ernest. He wasn't allowed to sneak out anymore, but his friends were, and they would come over all the time when he needed them to, school night or not. They would always invite him over as well — with his father's permission, of course. All of this made him feel cared about. He knew he was. Moving to Maple Bay had been a good choice for his him and his father, for many reasons, but that was one of the most important ones to him. 

Surprisingly, they mostly kept quiet other than some playfully giggling from the twins and chatter amongst the girls. At some point, Lucien had felt Ernest slip his hand into his own, but still, Lucien didn't say anything. He felt sick. Like, actually sick. This weird feel of dread crawling up his spine. What was he nervous about? Was this some strange instinct he'd never felt before? He wasn't quite sure. It appeared as if Ernest had noticed. 

The boy next to him leant a bit further forward, angling his head to peer up at Lucien. He was silent for a moment still examining his face. Scrunched eyebrows and dark eyes. Pursing his lips, he took a moment to ask, “You alright?” 

Lucien didn't realize that he had been talking to him. His eyes were glued to the back of Amanda’s head, just sort of fixated on a point for no exact reason. 

Ernest moved back to where he was. He would bring it up in a bit. 

The group found themselves walking into the neighbourhood gate. They all lives in a cul-de-sac, a round little suburban area. Thought it was such a place that was expected to have mostly the same exact houses, it didn't; many of the houses very much portrayed the type of people that lived inside them. 

For Amanda, Briar, and Hazel, it was a two story home with a practical outside: white siding with red shutters. The garage was open and you could see sports equipment scattered about, a treadmill pressed against the back, and one of the family's vehicles, a sleek minivan, pulled up inside. Amanda had recently moved in with her father's new husband, Craig, and had recently became the step-sister of the twins. 

Daisy lived in a brick one story with her father. The front yard was utterly gorgeous, with always freshly mowed grass and lively flora. Even their dog wasn't allowed to shit in their lawn without cleaning it's messy, stinky wake up immediately. 

Carmensita lived in a rather modern house for the neighbourhood. That shown more on the inside than the outside, though. The house was two story and white walled, with dark brown accents. There were potted plants outside the doorstep and on a small balcony above the front porch’s roof. Inside was all sorts of modern furniture practically drowning in musical paraphernalia. 

Ernest lived in a small one story house, brick like Daisy’s. It was in more of a square shape, though, with a black shingled roof and green accents. Their yard was rather neat but not as kept up all of the time, since Hugo was very busy with school regarded work. And their dog shit on the lawn. Whenever she wanted to, wherever she wanted to. 

And lastly, Lucien. Lucien probably lived in the most...standing out house in the neighbourhood. And by that, he meant that it was painted black. With gargoyles out front. A bit of an exaggeration, from my father's part, but at least it appeared mostly normal. His father was a huge gothic junkie. It shown all over the house. Lucien was glad that his father was more for the historical half than any of the types he saw at school, though he wouldn't necessarily call them ‘goth’. Even himself was more 'emo’ than anything else. 

The girls all departed and left Ernest and Lucien behind. The younger walked his boyfriend up the steps to his home, still keeping quiet. Lucien took the time to notice that his father’s car wasn't in the driveway yet. He sighed. He was probably going to be working late. Hell knows how long you have to stay on a call saying “turn it off and back on again”; he didn't quite understand his father's patience.

Once they reached the door, Lucien fished his keys from his pocket and began to unlock the front door. Ernest unhanded him and slipped his hands into his hoodie pocket, looking Lucien over again. 

“Babe.” This time, Lucien looked over at him, having heard him. Ernest chewed on the inside of his lip. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Lucien asked after a second of silence. Ernest shook his head. 

“Just wanted to know that you're alright.” He tried again, hoping to get an answer this time. Not like he could really be ignored when Lucien was staring right at him and had no excuse to not tell him anything. He would stay with him till his father came home if he even tried. 

“Yeah.” Lucien answered pretty immediately.

“You’re not upset about me mentioning Pablo?”

“No.” Lucien grumbled. He wasn't, but...if Ernest kept mentioning him, he probably would become restless about it. “No, I just...feel sick. I'm gonna go lay down until dad’s back.”

Ernest didn't really believe him, but figured that he should at least pretend to. He'd ask him more about it tomorrow. Maybe he would have gotten some rest by then. “Okay.” He let out, looking down at his shoes, and then back up at his boyfriend. “Just let me know...if you need anything.” 

Lucien nodded and leant down to kiss Ernest on the lips, a quick smack before hurrying inside and shutting the door. 

Ernest stood there for another moment, staring at the door that had been locked in front of him. Somehow, for whatever reason, Lucien was lying. That, however, was not a rarity, so he went home as well.

———

Lucien sat down his two bags in his bedroom on his bed. He figured he would just put their contents up after his shower, and began to go ahead and undress since he was home alone. 

He slipped off his shoes at his open bedroom door and began taking off his jacket. It was dark purple, and rather his father’s old jacket that he had pretty much long-term borrowed from him. He hung it over his desk chair to remove his tee-shirt and his jeans. He left them on his bed as he went to his dresser, pulling out a sweater and a pair of long, soft house pants. 

As he went to go into the hallway, he heard a sound from downstairs, like the front door had been opened and shut. Lucien assumed it was his father, who had come home just around the time that he had. Now he could tell him that he was probably going to skip on dinner so that he wouldn't make it for the both of them. He knew his dad would still try to, and that was alright, but he would have to reassure him that eating with his stomach feeling so on edge would be quite the horrendous idea for their interior design. 

Lucien went ahead and began slipping on his clothes. He would take his shower after he told him. Once he did so, he moved to slip on his house slippers, not wanting to feel the cold, hardwood floor on his feet. 

There was another sound from downstairs. It sounded like a cough, but not his father’s voice. Maybe he just had really bad congestion. He hoped he wasn't sick. 

The teen left his bedroom and went to the staircase. He couldn't see his father yet. Descending down it, he was taken aback for a moment as the lights above him flickered. He halted in the middle of his traverse down and looked upwards. They came back on and stayed. Was there going to be a storm? Once to the bottom of the stairs, he looked around. From where he stood, he could see the foyer, and the dining table, as well as the...parlour.

He froze. That was in no way his father. 

He wasn't quite sure how long he stood there at the bottom, hand positioned and clamped tightly around the safety rail of the stairs. He wasn't able to tell himself to move. He watched the shape slowly move around his living room, unable to sense his presence. Eventually, he felt his brain giving him back some control, and began to nudge himself backwards. He didn't think he would be able to make it to the front door. Maybe he could hide upstairs. He locked the door, right? Didn't he? 

Lucien stumbled and tripped on the rug that was on the stairs. Hitting his head on the side of the rail on his way down, he yelped, gaining a massive wave of dizziness as he did so. The figure twisted and looked back at him. Again, he felt far more compelled to stop moving, but forced his body and scramble to his feet. The figure began moving towards him, somewhat slowly. The lights flickered. Lucien couldn't hold that well, and had to try to crawl up the stairs, using his legs and hands to boost him up faster. 

He got to the top of the stairs. The lights went out. He heard himself making noises he hadn't heard in forever as he ran into his room, slamming his door. He wasn't allowed to have a lock anymore, so that was completely out of the question. Once that had been a concern of his safety, and now it endangered him. Whimpering pathetically in panic, he fumbled through his bookbag on his chair, hurrying as he heard thumping on the stairs. 

He yanked out his pocket knife that his father’s best friend and his practical uncle had given him. It was sleek and shiny, like a chrome rainbow. He flicked it open and held it at his side, going back over to his bed to find his phone. As soon as he picked it up, and tried to turn it on, it flashed the low battery light, and died. 

It then shorted and shock at his hand. He tossed it away, hissing and pulling his hand back. 

The lights that had recently went out came back on as he stared at his strangely sizzling phone. His light bulb slightly buzzed, it's light now yellowed and dim. The thumping outside his door had stopped. 

He turned around, pitiful knife in shaky hand.

———

It was a little after nine p.m. Damien hadn't meant to leave work so late, but he had to take overtime since one of their members of the team had gotten ill and didn't report she wouldn't be coming in until the afternoon. 

After he’d parked in the driveway, he stepped out of his car, checking and tightening his long, shiny ponytail as he looked around. The sun had long since set. He would've called Lucien, and told him he was going to get home late, but he hadn't any time to, and felt there was no need to even attempt to call him on the way home. Nevertheless, he was finally back, and he could rest. 

Going inside, he locked the door behind him and removed his shoes. It looked as if the lights in the parlour were on, but Lucien usually liked to turn on every light in every room he entered and never turn them off. He would forgive him this time. Entering the parlour, Damien looked around. Just as he had thought, no Lucien there. From the parlour, he could see the staircase. He was probably just upstairs. He would go check on him. 

“Lucien!” He called, going up and to his bedroom door. He could tell that the light was on from the crack under the door. “I'm home; I'm sorry I was so late, but if you haven't ate yet, I can fix you something. Are you decent?” 

He didn't hear anything and furrowed his brows. Was he sleeping? Lucien wasn't usually a heavy sleeper, though, so he would've surely woken up by even the sound of the door shutting. “I'm coming in, sweetheart.” 

Damien opened the door and took a glance around. No, Lucien wasn't in his bedroom. The bags on the bed suggested that he had went shopping. Damien wondered if he was staying over at a friend's. Most likely, though he would've expected a note by the least. The father sighed. Oh well, he would just make dinner for himself and call Hugo or Craig tomorrow. He would see Lucien tomorrow afternoon and remind him to kindly leave a note next time. 

He shut the door and went downstairs, traveling to the kitchen to fix a small meal for himself.

The light in the fridge flickered. Might have to change it soon. 

———

The next morning, Damien awoke from his slumber around 6 a.m. to the alarm clock that had forgotten to turn off since Lucien wasn't home for him to wake him up and get him ready for school. However, Damien figured it a better time than later to get up and go make some coffee, and call Hugo before school started rather than call him during his planning period. He wasn't worried, but he just wanted to be sure where Lucien had been the night before. 

After putting a pot of coffee on, Damien had went to go for his phone when he heard the doorbell ring. Cocking his head to the side, he assumed that it was probably Lucien, though him ringing the doorbell was a little odd. Perhaps he had forgotten his keys inside? 

The man went over to the foyer and answered the door. However, to his dismay, it wasn't Lucien, but it was Ernest.

The boy stood there, swayed to the side like he had just woken up. Well, he did. He woke up with Hugo, so he woke up about five a.m., an hour before current time. Damien smiled down to him. Ernest attempted to do so back. His mind was obviously on something else. 

“Goodmorning, Mr. Bloodmarch.” If it hadn't been a greeting, his voice would've just sounded like a groggy groan. “Could I speak to Lucien?” 

Damien once again took a double take, head looking over Ernest to the outside world and then back to him. “I, well...thought he was with you.”

“No?” Ernest looked a little piqued at this in return. “No, I walked him home last night. What, he's not there?” 

“No, I…” Damien digressed speaking for a moment, swallowing a coffee-less tasting gulp. “He wasn't home when I got here last night. Are you sure you haven't at least seen him?”

Ernest took a moment, and it completely raised Damien’s interest. However, it soon died out. “I don't think so. Maybe he went over to the Cahn’s. They weren't talking about hanging out or anything, but I do know they were having dinner with Robert last night. Maybe he got invited?” 

Damien felt an odd sensation blossom inside him. Although that was probably the most capable suggestion, it still made him feel dizzy to not know where his son's location was at all times. Maybe he was just too overprotective. But he had to be. That was his job; he had to keep his son safe. 

There was a span of silence before Damien sighed. “Yeah, I guess so. I'm sorry that he's not here, though. Is everything alright between you two?”

Damien was aware of their relationship, and so was Hugo, both of which wholeheartedly agreed that it was healthy for the both of them. They needed each other, and both of them had gone through so much. They didn't fight often, but Damien wouldn't be surprised if it didn't somehow happen. Or maybe, something was wrong with Lucien? Maybe that could explain him being missing? Well, missing wasn't a word he was going to use. He just wasn't home at the moment. 

Ernest nodded, but it didn't tell to much. “Yeah, just...wanted to know if he wanted to ride with me and Hugo. He had a test he needed to make up from when he was sick.”

Damien nodded. “Well...are you leaving in a moment?” 

“Got a few minutes.” Ernest shrugged. 

“Then come inside.” The man smiled. “You need some coffee, and I'm going to call Craig.”

Ernest willingly lagged behind Damien as he took him into the kitchen, pouring him a glass of the steaming hot coffee, and himself one, and he finally picked up his phone. He scrolled to find the young man’s number and clicked the dial button, putting it on speaker and sitting it on the counter. 

It took a moment for it to be picked up, but when it was, it wasn't Craig, it was Marcus, his husband. Marcus and Craig had been best friends since college and had always felt something special, but fell in love completely when Marcus and his daughter Amanda moved to Maple Bay. Marcus and Damien got along just fine, and it wasn't much of a shock when he picked up instead. 

“Morning Damien.” He greeted, echos of chattering in the background. With the quality, it sounded like dishes breaking, and with the three older girls and younger toddler, he wouldn't be surprised. “Craig is making breakfast for the girls. Did you need him for something?”

“Goodmorning to you as well, Marcus.” He managed, a little nervous as no mention of Lucien. “I was wondering...was Lucien there last night?”

Marcus took a pause, and it sounded like he said something to Craig away from the phone. Soon, he returned. “No, he wasn't. Why?”

Damien felt a chill go down his spine, and Ernest perked up, sitting his coffee down on the counter. Where else could he have gone? Usually he would either be at Hugo’s or the Cahn's...maybe he was at Roberts? Brian's? Mat’s? 

Ernest seemed to notice that Damien was beginning to get nervous, and placed a hand on his arm. The man's eyes flicked down over to him, trying to think of how to respond to Marcus. 

“Uh...well, he, uh...wasn't home last night.” The goth finally managed, shutting his eyes. Was that a headache coming on? He needed to remain calm and not get his blood pressure up. Everything was fine. “Thought maybe he spent the night or something. Do you think maybe he went home with Robert?” 

Marcus was quiet for a second. “Uh...no, I don't think he did. Dames, I can ask around if you'd like? He's probably just...around.” Craig made a noise in the background and Marcus murmured back to him again. He also heard Amanda. 

“No, no, don't worry about it.” Damien refused. He wouldn't want Marcus to bother with anything. He probably needed to help Craig with the kids. “Thank you, though. I'll call around instead.”

So, he did. Ernest sat down with Damien as they began to ask the neighbourhood about Lucien and his whereabouts. 

Brian hadn't seen him, and Daisy had spent the night over at Carmensita’s, the both having not seen him either. So...the two of them were knocked out. Damien felt his heart in his chest as he dialed Robert’s number. 

It took a couple of rings before Robert answered, but when he did, he yawned. Must have just been woken up, what with not having a kid to prepare for the day or anything. he'd finished, he chuckled. “Dames, can't a man have his beauty rest? I'm sure you know all about that. What's up?”

“Lucien is missing.” 

“What?” 

“Lucien is—”

Robert intercepted, voice flat and suddenly serious. “Yeah, I heard you, Damien, but could you explain a little bit? He's just missing?”

“Yes. Yes, I...I guess. I mean, he never came home, and he just...no one else knows where he is. I thought maybe he'd be with you, but…you would called me, and…” Damien felt and heard his voice getting shaky and panicked. 

It was fine, it was fine, it was...probably not fine. He wouldn't just disappear like this. 

“Okay, slow down, you're going to make yourself sick.” On the other side, the two could heard Robert sitting up in bed and getting out, presumably. “Damien, I need you to get some water and stay where you are. I'm coming over.”

“No, you don't need to—”

“My best friend’s depressed, suicidal son is missing. Of course I'm fucking coming over.” 

Damien felt his heart shrink when Robert practically snapped at him. Ernest also noticeably recoiled from where he sat, nervous. The man swallowed hard. “Y…yeah. Okay.” 

Robert hung up and Damien nearly dropped his phone. His hand traveled to rest on his now clammy forehead, leaning against the counter. He shut his eyes again, and all he could see was Lucien. Lucien from the day before, from the last time he'd seen him. Everything was fine. Why couldn't it be the same today? 

It took him a moment before he spoke, but by the time he did, Ernest had gotten up, went to the fridge, and brought back a water to Damien. He didn't even try to touch it.

“Ernest, how was he yesterday?”

“Huh?”

“How was he? You said you wanted to talk to him, and I just…” Damien trailed off. It felt like his heart was ripping from his chest, painfully, and slowly. “...do you think, that maybe…”

Ernest knew where he was going, and knew that he wouldn't be able to get there. “No. No, he wouldn't. He was fine. He was making jokes and smiling but he said he felt sick. Like his stomach was hurting, or something.” He left out the part where he hadn't believed him, and Damien didn't press anymore on it. 

Almost not a minute later, Robert entered the home. He quickly made his way over to Damien. “Hey.” 

Damien looked over at him and saw that he looked the same as usual. Tousled hair, uneven stubble, bagged eyes, ruffled clothing. A lot of this was definitely explainable under the current unforeseen circumstances. The man pulled up a stood beside him and took a long stare at Ernest. 

“Aren't you supposed to be with you father? He's looking for you.”

As soon as Robert had gotten this out of his mouth, the front door opened again. It was Hugo, who nonchalantly glanced in the kitchen doorway. Once spotting Ernest over beside Damien, he smiled a bit. “Hey, there you are, and hello fellas.” Hugo nodded to the two other men in the room. Damien winced. Lucky Hugo. “Come on, kiddo, we got to go.”

“I can't.” 

“Why not?” 

“Lucien is missing.” Robert hurried to fill him in. Damien seemed to shiver every time those words were said together. He couldn't believe it, not one bit. 

Hugo seemed taken aback greatly, his smile slowly melting. “...he's...Ernest, do you—”

Ernest seemed suddenly choked up, eyes narrowing as he covered his mouth. “No...I don't know where he is. I...I don't…”

Damien's eyes flipped open and he worriedly looked over at Ernest. “No, it's okay...we know you don't…”

Ernest wasn't assured and continued. “I should've stayed with him...I...I don't know, he went into the house and locked it…” 

“Sweetheart.” The goth man shook his head. Even in his even more distraught state, he placed a hand as firmly as possible on Ernest’s shoulder. The boy sniffed, having started to cry. Hugo was stiff in the doorway. “It's not your fault. He...he probably just…”

Where else was there to go? Lucien didn't know anyone else in town, and wouldn't just go off with anybody. He hadn't had passing out spells in forever, and if he had, he would've woken up and would've still been at home. Damien had been to the bathroom and study and various other areas of the house, and he hasn't been there for sure. He was probably not in the garden. That left...nowhere for him to be. He couldn't have went ahead to school, either, since he had been gone completely all night. 

Damien retracted his hand, and placed it back on his phone. He handed it over to Robert. He wouldn't be able to explain. 

Robert nodded to him darkly before dialing, ‘911’. 

———

Damien was now trying to calculate how much of a horrible father that he was. 

The cops had been called to their house and had investigated the scene. Damien felt an odd eeriness as he watched them working. He was asked to sit back in the parlour with Robert, Ernest, and Hugo. 

One of the officers began to go upstairs when he stumbled a bit, his shoe catching itself under something. He quickly stopped himself by grappling onto the railing but halted when he noticed something. Stooping down, he signalled the other officers, who tracks had gotten them nowhere, over to him. 

Damien stood up, heart thumping as he tried to looked closer at what they were speaking about. All he noticed was the rug on the bottom of the stairs, which had been tossed upwards at the corner. Hadn't the man just tripped? Was it funny to him, or something? Then, one pulled out a camera. The first man pointed to another area of the railing and alerted them. Another one noticed Damien looking and slowly walked over to him. 

“What...did you find?” Damien asked, words hardly coming out of his dry mouth. He had been stubborn and hadn't drank any water as instructed by Robert. 

The office took a deep breath. “Well, the rug was already like that. It also appears as if there might be a smear of blood on the railing.”

Damien's heart thumped hard and he stepped back. Robert stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder, speaking up for him. “Blood?”

“Yes sir.” The man nodded. “We were thinking that maybe your son may have tripped, or someone had. It's...I don't know if it's alright for you to be hearing these things.” He turned his attention back worriedly to Damien, who was staring past him with wide eyes.

“No, no, I can listen!” Damien clarified, a little hurriedly. “Sorry, I just…” he went quiet again. Everyone knew that he was just bluffing, but the officer figured he would comply and finish what he had been saying. 

“It stands as a sign of struggle.” He finished, and Damien felt dizzy again. Struggle? Struggle from what? Lucien had locked the door, like Ernest had said. He'd seen him. No one else had a key to the house, and no one knew where the spare one was except Robert and probably Ernest. 

However, he didn't ask. He was watching as the cops went upstairs. He thought he heard the sound of them entering Lucien’s room. It took a couple of minutes, and the other man went to the stairway to look up at them. Suddenly, one of them came back downstairs. 

He was holding a bag in his gloved hands. Ziploc. They've must’ve found something substantial. This made Damien sit back down. God, this was so much more serious that he had original thought. How foolish he was. 

The man brought it back to the other officer.

Overheard was the short question, “It was just laying there?”

This made Robert perk up. He left Damien's side and stood up, leaving the parlour area and heading over to the two men. The one that had came downstairs with the bag became attentive to him, a confused expression his face. 

“There was a knife laying out on his bedroom floor.” He told him, in sort of a whisper so Damien couldn't hear. However, he was already by Robert’s side. Robert’s blood turned cold, but when the bag with the knife was shown to him, both he and Damien seemed as stumped as the officer. “Do you recognize this?”

Robert took a deep breath. “That's...I got that for him. For his 16th birthday this year.” 

Damien nodded enthusiastically, concurring. Why was that just laying out? Had he...had he had to use it for self defense? He took a large gulp of air as well. He couldn't believe any of this was happening. There was no way to have prepared for a situation like this. 

“Well, we have to confiscate it as evidence, for the time being, at least.” The man replied, voice solemn and remorseful. Damien was a little glad that the man seemed to care. He wondered if he had a son as well. He wondered if he ever considered being in his shoes. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that's alright.” He told him, though even if it wasn't, it wouldn't make a difference. 

The man nodded and went to go get the forensics team to come swab a couple blood and fingerprint samples. 

The other man that had been talking to them came back over. He was chewing on his lip. He also knew that none of this was good news. “Mr. Bloodmarch,” he addressed him, in a sigh. “This is Hardly a ton of evidence to conduct a case with. The signs of struggle. The knife. It tells parts of a story. Remnants. We need to know if you have the final half of it. If there is any other leads that you can provide.”

Damien hardly had to think about it. It felt as if it had all lead up, if it had come full circle again. Moving to Maple Bay must have not been enough. Nothing he ever did was enough. 

He met Roberts gaze and felt himself quiver as he told him, “Lonnie.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry, dear everyone from the tumblr, but this was SO hard to finish. By the way, the first chapter isn't even as complete as I was going to have it. I left out meeting our special Her. Sorry :^( 
> 
> Anyways! Hope this is good regardless! Thanks for reading! — Craig/Jacob


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